Stories, Old Ragged Verse, Letters to and from mountain cousins by Storyteller and Appalachian Humorist Stephen Hollen. Enjoy the humor and bittersweet memories of Eastern Kentucky and a place where the mist crawls down the mountainside ''like molasses on a cold plate''

Saturday, March 06, 2004

I am achin' for a peek at a hillside with some daffodils pushin' through the litter of old leaves - oak, maple and larch. Planted there by a forgotten mountain woman to brighten up the yard outside a common cabin. Maybe a redbud sort of hintin' that it plans to burst forth in bloom 'fore you know it.

Down a holler there is a sorry ol' dog just waitin' to lay on a porch just in time for me or you to pass. He'll raise his head to watch me as if to say, "where y'all been for so long?" Folks are sittin' on them porches even now, practicin' for warmer weather...comin' out with coats on to breathe deep the mountain air and clear the dusty winter from their lungs.

Cousin, if you listen close an' be right quiet you'll hear the sound of an axe splittin' some kindlin' up by the creek an' the soft steady currr, ruck, ruck cluck of a couple chickens as they peck at the warming earth. There, did you hear that? That was the sound of an ol' wood screen door slappin' at the door jam as someone goes out the back door to wander to the barn an' look over tractors ready for plowin'.

Look to the sky an' see the birds already comin' home to the hills, bellies full from their winter vacations. They are carryin' on somethin' awful, meetin' an' greetin' ol' friends an' neighbors.

Smell deep an' you'll catch the hint of coal fires an' hickory burnin' slow in fire grates. Maybe, if you're right lucky your ol' nose will catch a hint of chicken fryin' or beans simmerin' slow from over to Beloved. I reckon that Grandma's House Restaurant is plum' full 'bout now an' ever' time the door opens the smell of home sneaks out to tease an' call you home.

Look in the creek as you dream an see them crawdaddys snappin' out Morse code, spellin' your secret mountain name. The minners swim this way an' that, don't look too awful long cause they'll hypnotize you an' you'll never want to leave.

Now, I reckon your poor ol' shoes are covered with that yeller mud from down home. don't kick it off or rub the sides of 'em in the high grass. Be right careful and when y'all get home let that mud dry. Take it off them shoes real careful like an' put it in a little ol' bottle. Put it away in a special place.

When you get homesick for the hills an hollers, take that bottle out an' smell that sweet earth. Roll it around in your hands and close your eyes. Hold it tight, cousins 'cause it is in your blood already. Blood to earth, them mountains call you home. Blood to earth, you hear the secret songs of the sassafras as it waves in the wind, high on the hillside. Blood to earth, you hear the heart of the mountain cry out to your heart.

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Notice: All original photographs, stories, poems and text on this blog site are copyright protected and solely owned by the author, Stephen Hollen. Please request permission before copying or reproducing any content by writing to Stephen at:mountainstories@yahoo.com

Stephen Hollen

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SCHEDULING

Why not try something different for your Sales Meeting, Conference or Annual Meeting? Invite Stephen to as your Featured or Keynote Speaker! His many years of experiences as a successful and award winning Salesman and Sales Manager have given him insights and inspiration for your business or organization.

Event Planners and Organizers, here is a winning idea! Invite Stephen to share his Tall Tales, Scary Stories, Old Ragged Verse or maybe even Doc Hollen's Traveling Medicine Show at your event, festival, school or organization.

Contact him at: mountainstories@yahoo.comOr give him a call: 937-371-4071

About Me

Stephen Hollen is an award winning storyteller, writer, poet and Appalachian
Humorist. He grew up in the hills of Appalachia where his family has
lived since the 1760s. He is considered by many to be one of the foremost
poetic and storytelling voices of Appalachia.

One of the achievements Stephen is proudest of is the Heritage Award
presented to him in 2005 at the Appalachian Festival in Cincinnati, Ohio.
He was chosen "Man of the Year" in 2007 and was elected to "Who's Who
in America" in 2000, 2001 and 2003. His poetry - known by him as
"ragged verse" has been selected to appear on a number of websites
and his poem remembering 9/11 traveled around the world and appeared in German
and Russian websites!

Stephen's storytelling blog - www.mountainstories.net
enjoys huge popularity and has a large following of readers. Thousands of
readers stop monthly to read the humorous stories, bittersweet memories and
wonderful word pictures written by this talented author and poet.

Perhaps you were introduced to Stephen Hollen at a festival, school or
community event as he told stories, performed his tongue in cheek Old Time
Medicine Show as Doc Hollen, made Appalachian brooms and walking sticks, played the harmonica
or dulcimer or just told a tale so tall it HAD to be true.

Wherever you crossed his path, there is no doubt that he loves Appalachia -
and Eastern Kentucky in particular. When he talks about his "hometown
of Beloved, Kentucky", characters like his Cousin Peanut, Uncle Billy
Gilbert or Birdie Sue Poovey, you will grin with recognition because you have
kin just like them. As he reads his ragged verse, his warm bass voice
slowly weaves a picture of lightening bugs dancin' at dusk, of mist creepin'
down a mountain like molasses on a cold plate... and you find yourself
entranced, smiling at the memories he weaves around his audience.

Stephen Hollen is an unsung ambassador for Eastern Kentucky. You can see
it in the twinkle of his eye, hear it in the richness of his voice as he asks
you to come along and go with him back home... to the hills.